Chapter 154
Emmaline
Eventually, he falls asleep.
I don't move. I can't. His head is on my lap, his hair spread across my thighs like spilled wine, his face slack with exhaustion. There are tear tracks on his cheeks. I wipe them away with my thumb, careful not to wake him.
We're still on the floor. I don't care. I don't care about the cold marble or the way my legs are going numb.
I run my fingers through his hair and try to organize the information.
It's been so long since I came to this world. The original story is a blur of fragmented memories, half-remembered chapters, details I skimmed because I was bored or annoyed or too focused on the art to care about the plot.
I remember the broad strokes. The F-class hunter who turned back time. The dungeons. The monsters. The harem of women who all inexplicably loved him.
I remember the ending. Evan rallied the hunters. They fought the SS-class monsters. They won. Happily ever after.
